


And Start Again

by displayheartcode



Series: Dogfather and Fawn [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Family, Friendship, On Hiatus, Rating subject to change, Romance, Rule 63, Sirius Raises Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displayheartcode/pseuds/displayheartcode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those who wander aren't always lost because they find each other eventually. Sirius wins the trial and gets to raise The Girl-Who-Lived, but nothing is ever perfect or goes as planned.</p><p>HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Now to relish in my lack of control when it comes to writing fics. 
> 
> I'm very charmed by the idea of Sirius being in a parental role.

"Mister Black?" Halley Potter poked her head from behind the door. "What are you doing?"

Her godfather was standing in front of an old-fashioned stove that would have made Aunt Petunia shriek in despair. Of course, the little girl had a feeling that many things about that man would make her aunt shudder and cry. His hair was long and always messy, he was never well groomed, he would say bad words under his breath, he didn't know how to keep his house clean, and he only knew how to make sandwiches and eggs.

But he was significantly better than the Dursleys. It was two months now, and Halley already knew that this strange man cared for her more than Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ever could or would.

"I'm making us breakfast, kiddo." Mr Black quickly looked over his shoulder, smiling. "How do you feel about eggs?"

Halley made a face. She stepped in front of the door and rubbed her sleepy eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "I—I can make bacon—"

"No!" Mr. Black spun around on the spot. His elbow almost knocked the empty frying pan to the floor. His black eyes were wide and there was a stark, protective look over his face. "As your godfather I should be making you meals. Halley, you're a child! You should be doing what other children do…"

"Like what?" she asked. Ever since she was whisked away from the Dursleys, she had only seen the inside of his spooky house, a strange medical room at an even stranger hospital of some kind, and a very scary stone room that was filled with many people wearing robes. There weren't many chances to meet other children like her. Children that were witches and wizards.

Mr. Black's face deflated and his shoulders sagged. Something about him seemed to crumble, making him radiate something very sad and guilty. "Like...like Quidditch! Quidditch and Gobstones and Exploding Snap!" Halley had no clue what he was talking about except for Quidditch. Her face must have showed because that only made him look worse. He sighed and began cracking eggs in the frying pan. Halley sat at the long table and waited for breakfast to come. Her She shivered and brought the robe up closer to her.

Grimmauld Place was old, smelled funny, and snakes were everywhere. Halley was afraid of snakes, and Sirius had tried to get rid of most of them with magic but some were too stubborn to leave. There were some things in his house that scared him, too. Like the portrait in the hall that was covered by a heavy sheet, and the wall filled with the disembodied heads of some sort of long-eared monster. He had even once told her that he had something called a 'Creature' living with him that looked liked those monsters, but 'Creature' was asked to leave. Despite the creepiness, she was told that this was one of the safest places for her to live. The house was under a special charm that she had trouble pronouncing.

Halley had her own room now. It was much bigger than Daisy's room and had red walls and a big banner with a yellow lion on it. She liked the room a lot, but she had no clue what to do with all of that extra space. She had even once peaked inside and thought that Mr Black's room was very odd. Like hers, he had a lion banner on the wall behind his bed. But his walls weren't empty, they were filled with black-and-white moving pictures of four boys, and there were some non-moving pictures of women wearing swimming outfits.

She'd once asked him why he had the pictures of the women, and he told her to ask again when she was older.

Halley put a smile on her face when Mr Black handed her a plate of eggs. They were runny and gooey, and they complimented the slightly burnt toast that he also served. He sat down next to her and began wolfing down his food. She hoped that all of that food would help him, because Mr Black was a very thin man. He almost looked like a skeleton wrapped in dirty and pale skin when she had first seen him. It wasn't exactly a charming first time that they had shared. She'd screamed her head off when the dog had turned into a fighting man, and he had trouble concealing her.

"You know the meeting that I was telling you about?" he asked her around hungry mouthfuls of toast.

She nodded, remembering yesterday's conversation about some witches and wizards that were going to come over. They all knew each other and Mr Black, and he'd offered her to stay and watch the meeting, but she'd politely declined. She didn't wanted to meet the wizards and witches during the scary trial, even if they were responsible for her to live with Mr Black. She would rather stay in her room and look at the book about flying. The pictures moved and the game looked very exciting and dangerous. It had an appeal that she liked.

"One of them, Arthur Weasley, he has a girl that I think is your age." Mr Black chewed thoughtfully. "A little boy, too. Maybe I can ask him to bring them over."

Halley's green eyes widened as she tried to imagine what it would be like. She could only think of miniature versions of the strange wizards and witches that she had encountered. Like the wizard with the long beard and gave her lemon candies when he thought when no one was looking, the scary one that wore pink and that would speak to her in a sickly sweet voice, or the even scarier wizard that had long blond hair and would make Halley feel sick whenever he would look at her. She hoped that the last two didn't have any children near her age.

"What if they don't like me?" she whispered. She poked at her eggs, remembering how her cousin Daisy would treat their classmates if any of them had gotten too friendly with Halley. She was the freak that made strange things happen in her school. Now that she knew about magic, she was afraid that she wouldn't know how to fit in.

Mr Black's face softened. He ruffled her hair affectionately, his voice breaking a little. "Trust me. The Weasleys are one of the nicest Wizarding families out there, and you're James and Lily's kid."

"But—" Halley began.

"No buts." He tapped her nose with his thin index finger. "You're going to make some friends, Halley Lily Potter. Okay?"

Her voice wobbled. "Okay."

She blinked her eyes and was surprised to find some tears. She blew her nose (Aunt Petunia would have disapproved) with her sleeve. She moved to clear the dishes away, a reflex from the Dursleys—and Mr Black closed his hand around her wrist.

"No," he said. "I'll do the dishes."

"But I want to help," Halley said. It was very confusing living with him. Everything that she had done for the Dursleys he didn't want her to do. Mr Black wasn't very good at it, but he could cook and clean and he wanted her to have fun.

"Here." He let go of her wrist and patted the tabletop. "You sit up here while I clean this up. I'll even tell you a story about your old man and I when we were in school." He looked different now. Less distant and more focused. He ran a hand through his matted hair and started piling up their plates.

Halley's stomach did that weird clenching feeling whenever he brought up her parents. She sat on the table and drew her knees up to her chin. "What can you tell me?" she asked, and ignored the trembling in his hands. He told her a story about her dad and their friends that could turn into animals to help a friend of theirs. Transfixed, Halley listened about how her dad could turn into a stag, Mr Black as a large dog, and with a pause, how their other friend could turn into a wolf. He spoke of running and exploring a forest near their school that was filled with various monsters and creatures. Most of all, he spoke how he and her dad would help their friend that could turn into a wolf. It was a painful transformation for the other friend, and with the help of Mr Black and her dad, it made it easier for their friend to handle those nights.

"When can I learn to do that?" she asked. Attending Hogwarts sounded so far away from now.

"Until you're older. Much older. And with proper training." Mr Black's face went pink. "Not a lot of wizards can do it, and you'll need to register with the Ministry."

"Can you teach me?"

"Perhaps," he said with a smile. "What animal do you think you'll be?"

"I dunno," Halley said. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, unsure of what animal that she liked the most. Maybe a lion like the one on the red banner or a stag like her dad. That would be nice. "I don't want to be a snake."

Mr Black threw his head back and laughed, making him appear years younger.

They cleaned for most of the day. It was an old house and the mess that it was in would have made Aunt Petunia suffer a heart attack. There were spider cobwebs on the chandeliers, the silver was tarnished and disorganised, and the curtains moved as if something was bulging behind them. Halley was glad to finally do something of use, even if it'd meant spraying purple liquid at the curtain monsters that were called doxies for most of the morning. They were small, vicious, and they had to fly. At first, she had fun because Mr Black made it into a game and then she had trouble not crying when one had bit her ear.

"I'm so sorry!" He tried to sooth her and he tugged her handkerchief off. "Please, I need you to stay still." He pulled her hair back and dabbed her ear with a potion that smelled foul.

"It—it bit me!" Halley said. She clutched her ear, surprised at how sharp and pointy the doxies' teeth were. The potion felt oddly hot to her skin. Her crying subsided and she touched the injury with her fingers. She felt a smear of blood but the injury was gone. She looked to the twitching doxie that she had slammed into the wall with her sprayer. "Can I step on it?"

"No. You're going to spray it," he said. He untied his own handkerchief and scratched his beard. "How about we do something safer, like throwaway my family's antique silver? We'll stop for lunch and then I'll fire call Mr Weasley. Does that sound good?"

Safe was a common word ever since the trial. She wasn't safe with the Dursleys, so some important witches and wizards took her away. They had a trial to figure out who she would stay the safest with, and Mr Black had won much to the dismay of several sour-faced wizards. Then he'd took her to his house and said that it would keep her safe from the scary witches and wizards that didn't liked her, and from nosy reporters. Halley had been confused, but she was explained before the trial about her parents, a dark wizard, what had happened the night that they'd died. She thought that there were better ways of telling her that magic was real and that she was a witch, but life had other ideas.

"Yes." Halley said. Her ear now felt numb and she was confused as to why he wanted to throwaway his family's silver. "I'll like that."

* * *

The girl had flame-coloured hair that was in a plait and friendly round face filled with freckles and a long nose. Her maroon jumper looked hand-made and was just as worn as her pair of denims. Her little brother was about her height, maybe taller, and he had the same hair colour and freckles. His jumper was brown and he was clinging to his father's side. Soot and ashes covered all three of their faces and their father's glasses

"Hullo, Sirius," Mr Weasley said. He took his glasses off and tapped them with his wand. All of the soot and grime vanished and he did the same for his children. Halley peeked from behind Mr Black's legs. Mr Weasley was tall and thin and balding. His daughter had his smile. He looked down at Halley and his blue eyes were blinking. "My, she looks just like her father. Those must be her mother's eyes, too."

"Don't be shy," Mr Black murmured. He gently pushed her away from him. He looked up and held his hand out. "Good to see you, Arthur."

Mr Weasley shook his hand. "If only it was under happier circumstances. This is Rory." He pointed to the girl who was playing with the tail of her plait. "And this is Gideon." The little boy at his side was staring wide-eyed at Mr Black as if the older man was a ghost. "And where will the three of them be staying?"

"I have Halley's room all set up. There's toys, sandwiches, and pumpkin juice." Mr Black leaded them up the creaky and winding staircase to the second floor. He opened the second door on the right and gestured the Halley and the two other children inside. "And any word on when Mad-Eye or Remus are supposed to be here? I found this Boggart in my mother's room, and I can't get rid of it."

The two adults talked and spoke of people with strange names and of even stranger nouns. The door was knocked again and there was the sound of the Floo being used downstairs. Mr Black ran down to see who they were, and Mr Weasley turned to his children, his voice was somewhat stern.

"The same rules when visiting your Great-Aunt Muriel applies here," he said. Rory made an exasperated face at the name. "Aurora, I saw that. No more picking locks and wandering off. This isn't your home and you shouldn't go exploring."

"But what if we want to play with the Boggart?" Rory asked sweetly.

"Like when the ghoul wanted someone to play with?" Mr Weasley rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm downstairs if you need me." He left and Halley could hear more voices echoing from the floor below.

"Does it hurt?" Rory blurted out the second that her father left. Her face flushed to a dull red. "Your scar, I mean."

"Rory!" her brother gasped.

Halley smoothed her fringe back and traced the scar. Funny how it used to be her favourite feature and now not so much. "Should it?"

The redhead squinted her eyes and examined Halley's scar. "Dunno? I thought it would hurt because...you know…" She gave a lame shrug. Looking eager to change topics, she asked, "Can I plait your hair? Mum taught me this really fancy one and I'm not allowed to use Gid's head anymore." Her brother inched away from her on the bed. His hair also looked recently cut.

Halley ran a hand through her tangled hair. She and Mr Black weren't very good with keeping their hair tamed. Ever since she came to live with him, she never had to go through one of Aunt Petunia's haircuts that would leave Halley with a short bob. Now it fell past her shoulders and was even more unruly. Although she always felt very well groomed next to Mr Black. "I dunno, my hair is really messy and..."

Rory shook her head. "Your hair's fine. You just need to brush it more often. Do you have a brush and some elastics?"

Soon Halley was sitting cross-legged on her bed and with Rory sitting behind her. The brushing was very gentile compared to Aunt Petunia's. Her brother dutifully held the elastics in one palm as he read the book about flying in the other. "What's your team?" he asked.

"I don't have one." Halley looked over to see what pages that he was reading. It took a second or two for the blurriness to go away. "What's yours?"

"He likes the Harpies," Rory said. She took an elastic from Gid and separated a section of Halley's hair before plaiting another. "The Cannons are mine. They're having some bad luck right now but it'll get better soon."

They won't, Gid mouthed. He shifted the book in his hand. "You play?"

"I've never gone on a broom before," Halley admitted.

"Never?" Rory sounded as thought Halley said that she'd never tried chocolate. She dropped Halley's hair. "We'll have to fix that. You can come to our house and we can teach you how to fly and play Quidditch and you can help us defeat our sisters when we play against them."

"How many sisters do you two have?" Halley asked, feeling very curious about their lives in the Wizarding World. She couldn't imagine what it was like to grow up knowing how to fly a broom, or to eat sweets that would change colour, or to travel through fireplaces.

"Too many," Rory said. She sounded weary. "We have five older sisters."

"How do you manage?" Halley looked at Gid was still engrossed in the book. He was staring almost dreamily at a group of witches wearing green.

He looked up after being addressed, and his face was pink. "You're going to Hogwarts, right?"

Hogwarts. The school that Halley would one day be going to. That was where her parents had met, that was where Mr Black and his friends had gone to, and was a word that was spoken a lot at her trial. According to Mr Black, those were some of the best seven years of his life, and his stories backed that up. So many of them had friendship and magic and adventure; it was something that Halley sorely wished to experience.

"Yes," she said. "I'm going to Hogwarts."

Rory held two sections of the unruly hair in her hands. "Has—has Mr Black said anything about the Sorting?"

"Not much." Halley's forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember what Mr Black had said about the mystical Sorting process. He had explained to her about the Houses weeks ago, but she was mostly paying attention to which House she'd liked the most. "Do you know anything?"

"The twins—that's Felicity and Georgia, you see—say that we have to fight a troll." Rory's face turned ashen and she shuddered. "A troll! Can you believe it? They say that you'll be a Hufflepuff if you ask for help, a Ravenclaw if you do a clever spell to fight the troll, a Slytherin if you trick it somehow, or you'll be a Gryffindor if you do something really brave to fight it off."

"I don't want to fight a troll," Halley said. She pictured herself looking very small in front of a large, misshapen man that was going to crush her.

"That's when they send you back," Rory said morosely. "They put you on the train and you go back home."

"They told me that you have to fly through the Forbidden Forest. There's spiders, werewolves, vampires..." Gid said. "Georgia never said anything about a troll."

"Felicity told me that it's a troll..." Rory groaned and accidentally tugged too hard on Halley's hair. "One of them is lying to us!"

"Ah, but which is true?" said a different voice. The three of them jumped to see a tall wizard with a long white beard standing by the door. He had a wrinkled, thin face and was wearing a pair of crescent-shaped glasses.

Gid emitted an odd sound. Rory squeaked and dropped Halley's parted and plaited hair. "You're—you're—you're—" she cluttered.

"And you must be Molly and Arthur's youngest children," the wizard said. He stepped inside the room and curiously watched then. Halley stared back, still finding him to be one of the most eccentric and oddly dressed people that she had ever met. His robes were the same pale blue of his eyes and had silver swirls and stars in them. His long beard was tucked into his belt and had more silver designs stamped into the leather. "Ah, you are the spitting image of your parents. Do you know that, Halley Potter?"

"That's what Mr Black tells me," she said.

"As he would," he said. A shadow of am emotion crossed over his face, and he appeared older. "And are you well, Miss Potter?"

"Yes?" Halley said. Burnt toast and all, she would say that she was feeling rather well with living with Mr Black.

The wizard let out a sigh. "Good, good... Forgive me, an old man has his worries..." He opened a small drawstring bag and pulled a small hard candy from the inside. "It is good to hear that you are well. Your godfather only says such wonderful things about you. Sherbet lemon?"

The three of them nodded and were happily trying sherbet lemons. Finding the citrus taste odd but not entirely unpleasant as they did before, Halley supposed that the sherbets weren't all bad, they reminded her the rare times of eating the hard candies that Mrs Figg kept in her purse.

"Oh, there you are!" A new wizard appeared. He was incredibly short and had a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. "Albus!" he chastised at seeing the sherbets out. "I swear that you are responsible for half of the cavities at Hogwarts!"

"Why, Filius, it's well known that my collection of sherbet lemons are free to anyone." The taller wizard's blue eyes twinkled from behind his glasses. "I remember once I had a student in my office, and when I'd turned away for a quick moment he had taken everything in the jar and had stuffed them in his pockets."

"And this is why I buy you toothbrushes every Christmas." Filius turned away and eyed the three children that were tasting their sherbet lemons. "Goodness, we must get going. The meeting is about to start."

"Wha's'it bout?" Rory asked. There was a final smack as she finished off the sweet. Halley was impressed with how quickly it was eaten.

"I'm afraid that you're too young to be involved right now." Albus gestured to the staircase. "Shall we join the others?"

"Only if you keep those despicable sweets to yourself." The two argued as they walked down to the meeting. The door closed by itself behind them.

Finally, Halley was able to finish her sherbet lemon. "Who were they?"

"That was Albus bloody Dumbledore," Rory breathed.

"Oh, that's his name?" Halley said. "I saw him at the trial."

"He's really famous and everything." Gid's voice dropped a notch. "They say that—that even You-Know-Who was afraid of him."

Halley wasn't sure how a dark wizard of nightmarish legend was afraid of an old man like Albus Dumbledore who enjoyed sweets.

"He's the Headmaster, you know," Rory went on. "Yeah, he's on a Chocolate Frog card and think he's got a seat on some stuff. Anyway, you're done!" She handed Halley a small mirror.

Halley checked her reflection in the handheld mirror. Her face wasn't as thin as it used to be, but it was much paler from always being inside. Her unruly hair was plaited and felt most of the weight centred on the back of her head. She turned her head to see the side of the bun. The french plait was coiled into a spiral and set into the bun. Halley lightly brushed her fingers over the plait.

"It's kinda crooked," Rory mumbled. She was blushing and playing with her own hair. "Mum knows this spell that can make it stick better, too. Bobby pins can only do so much..."

"It's pretty," Gid said. He had abandoned the book and was laying on his stomach. He was watching Halley's face for her reaction, too. "I can see your eyes."

Halley moved her hand to push some of her hair away out of reflex, but wasn't used to her hair being styled like this. She always hid behind her hair and now she couldn't do that. "I like it," she assured Rory.

The blush grew and Rory mumbled something under her breath. "Good, ah, that's good."

Next, Rory attempted to teach Halley how to make plaits. Their positions were switched with the redhead witch telling Halley what to do while snacking on sandwiches. In the end, Halley could only make two kinds of plaits and they agreed that the tomato and cheese sandwiches were better than the ham ones.

Halley liked this, this feeling of having friends. There was no Daisy to scare away potential friends in school, and there were no Dursleys to hide her away. For what could be the first time, Halley had friends. She had a godfather that loved her, an eccentric but exciting home to live in, but friends. She had friends.

"What should we do now?" she asked after finishing her third sandwich. The plate that Sirius had left for them was almost empty, and the jug was less than a third full.

"I wish we could play Quidditch," Gid sighed. He looked out the window to where the small courtyard and an even smaller copse of trees were. "But we'll have to be at home. Your yard is too small."

"Chess?" Rory said. She licked some mustard off her fingers. Aunt Petunia would be scandalised by her unladylike behaviour. "Have you ever played?"

"A little," Halley admitted.

"Don't," Gid warned with a moan. "She'll never stop playing if you let her start."

"That's not true!"

"At Great-Aunt Muriel's last year, you made everyone play!" He looked at Halley mournfully. "No one could beat her. We had to sleep over because Uncle Bilius kept going against her."

Rory puffed her chest out. "That's because I'm good at it. Shame he died knowing that I would always win."

Halley, who had raised her cup of juice to her lips, choked.

"Fine!" Gid got off the bed. "Let's go explore."

"Good idea." Rory was already reaching for the door.

"What?" Halley said. She set her cup down and jumped off the bed. "I thought we weren't allowed to—"

"Have you ever gone exploring before, Halley Potter?" Rory asked.

"Well—"

"And have you seen every dusty inch of this house?"

"Some doors are locked—"

"Excellent!" Rory made as though she was brandishing an imaginary sword. "Now let's go on an adventure!"

* * *

"What are you doing?" Halley watched at Rory took another bobby pin from her hair and inserted it inside the keyhole. Exploring wasn't that exciting. There was a library filled with books in a language that no one could read, and some abandoned rooms with heavy white sheets covering the furniture. In such a spooky house, Halley was at least expecting a ghost...

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm picking the lock because there has to be something interesting inside. No one locks boring doors." Rory bit her lower lip in concentration and continued working. "Georgia taught me last week and I've been practicing. I'll teach you," she offered. The rest of the Weasley children were sounding very interesting so far.

"Didn't Mr Black tell Dad that a Boggart is in this house?" Gid wondered out loud.

"What's a Boggart?" Halley asked. She couldn't remember which door that Rory was breaking into. There were so many rooms that Mr Black never talked about.

"I don't know," Rory said. "You?"

Her brother shrugged. "I think Mum said that Aunt Muriel is a Boggart."

"Just what the world needs," Rory muttered. There was a click and the door swung open. They looked inside the dark room and—" SPIDER!"

A spider of monstrous size loomed over them, so big that it blocked the view of the room. Great big pinchers snapped together and its multiple eyes zoomed on its targets. One hairy leg twitched and stepped forward.

All three of them screamed and they ran out of the room with the door slamming shut. They huddled in one corner at the far end of the hallway, clutching to each other and very afraid.

"I—I—I don't like spiders!" Rory squeaked.

Halley was never fond of them, but now she had a downright fear of giant spiders that could eat her. "Why does Mr Black have a giant spider in that room?" she asked in a wobbling voice.

"How?" Gid said. "How did he get a giant spider?"

Rory made a whimpering sound. All of the blood had left her face, making her as pale as a ghost. "Maybe...maybe it's because of Azkaban?"

"That's his mother's room," Halley said, remembering what he had said to Mr Weasley. "You don't think—"

"Have you ever seen her?" Gid asked.

"No," Halley said. "I think she's been dead for a while."

"Either the spider ate her, or it's there because he was in Azkaban." Rory stopped speaking. "I don't know which one I don't like more, but a Boggart is a giant, people-eating spider and I don't like it."

They made a solemn agreement to never go near that room and they went off to explore some more. Unsurprisingly, there were more locked doors that even Rory's collection of bobby pins couldn't unlock. Their adventuring continued as they descended to the first floor and came upon the door that led into the kitchen. It was made of a heavy dark wood and was locked, of course, but that couldn't stop the occasional sound of voices leaking through.

"Dad is going to kill us," Gid said.

"We're just a little curious," Rory said.

Halley opened her mouth to agree with Rory, but she heard her name being spoken.

"Shh!" she said to them. She pressed her ear closer to the door. "I think they're talking about me!"

"…she's too young to know..." came the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"...gone through enough..." said Mr Black. "Only a kid..."

She could hear more muffled arguing from behind the door, and a mysterious clicking sound. Halley looked and saw Rory picking the lock to the ornate door.

"What are you doing?" her brother said.

"We're going to find out!" Rory let out a small cheer when her bobby pins made a loud click—and the door swung open with a loud bang! All of them, who were learning against the heavy door, fell to the floor loudly, disrupting the meeting. The discussion went quiet and Halley felt all pairs of eyes on them.

A wizard with greasy hair glared at a stern witch that wore box-shaped glasses. "Yours," he drawled. "All three of them are yours."

* * *

_A Year Later_

"Miss Potter, it would be good for you if you sit down," said a tall black wizard. The gold earring in one of his ears twinkled in the light.

Halley looked up at the several wizards and witches that were standing before her. There was Headmaster Dumbledore, her godfather, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and a few others that she had gotten to recognise over the year. Nervousness clumped in her stomach, making the room feel too warm and her shirt collar too tight. There was something about the solemn faces and the charged atmosphere that didn't bode well.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" said Sirius and Remus at the same time. "Halley," said Sirius. "Please, sit down. This is going to be a lot to take in." His face was pale and worry lines creased his forehead. A muscle was twitching in his jaw, telling her that something was wrong and that Halley should be worried.

She sat down in a large armchair that could swallow her whole. It was patterned with silver and green with embroidered snakes, much like what the decor used to be. Her small feet dangled above the floor. "Am—am I going back to the Dursleys? I don't want to go back there."

The year flashed before her eyes: Being told that she was a witch, Sirius learning how to make a proper English breakfast and failing several time, cleaning up old Grimmauld Place, spending her days with the Weasley family, getting to experience a Wizarding childhood, Rory teaching her how to fly and then playing Quidditch, eating Mrs Weasley's cooking, calling Sirius by his first name for the first time and how happy he was, being taught how to swim in the creek by Georgia and Felicity, that silly kiss that Gid her at the New Year's Eve party… All of those months of happiness and family and friends, she couldn't leave them. She couldn't bear to lose them all and go back to the Dursleys.

Not after everything.

Sirius knelt down in front of her. "You'll never go back. I promise, okay?"

Halley nodded and felt the sting of unshed tears in her eyes. She could still imagine how dark and cramped the cupboard was.

"She's just a girl," said one of the witches in the Order. "Dear Merlin, she's just a girl."

"Bones, I believe that we have already agreed on her fate," sneered Severus Snape. "It is too late now to turn back."

"Miss Potter," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "You are familiar with the night on how your parents died, am I correct?"

"Yes," said Halley, now noticing for the first time how old and tired the famed wizard looked. His face appeared more thin, wrinkled, and pale. Dark shadows underlined his eyes and new lines were added to his face. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

A deep sort of silence filled the room. Halley suddenly felt very aware of her scar.

Headmaster Dumbledore spoke again. "There is a reason why the Dark Lord Voldemort—" several of the people in the room flinched "—had attacked you and your parents that night." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "At the time I thought that it was good for very few to know. Then I found out what had happened with your time with the Dursleys, and I knew at that point how wrong my plan was. How I should have known before, to realise my mistakes, there was so much more I could have done... I've told selective members of the Order why, and we've elected to tell you on what we plan to do next."

Trepidation made Halley's stomach churn. Voldemort felt more like a bad dream in her life if anything else. She knew that he was gone but his followers still remained. Some never even were sentenced Azkaban and were laying low, according to Sirius. Now there was a deeper reason as to why her parents were dead, there was a reason for her scar. She didn't know how she felt about that.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice sounding smaller and farther away.

"There was a prophecy," the headmaster began.

And Halley's whole world was tilted on its axis.


	2. On Your Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will regret uploading this sadly short chapter later. I really wanted it to be longer, but it wasn't working by that point. Sorry for the long wait, and big thanks to everyone that's been reading.

_Over ten years later._

Hector Jonathan Granger was a former Ravenclaw who lived his life on a schedule.

 Wake up every morning half an hour before seven; get dressed, have breakfast and be out the door by no later than seven; and be at the Ministry of Magic with Director Head Bones’ itinerary at 7:10. After that, he would spend the rest of the day sending out memos, doing office work, and would return home just before seven to be greeted by his cat Crookshanks. Then he would make himself dinner and go to sleep.

Lather, rinse, and repeat.

This was not one of those days. Hector woke up late with his cat sleeping on his chest again. The large half-kneazle, half-housecat was purring contently until his owner pushed him off.

“No, Crookshanks!” Hector brushed the loose fur off his nightshirt. His tongue recoiled at the mixture of morning breath and what Crookshanks’ new cat food smelled like. He stumbled to the bathroom and brushed the taste out and he _saw_ how tired he was from recently recovering from the Augery Flu.

His dark skin was sallow, his curly hair increased its bushiness, but there was the pinched look of deep exhaustion that wasn’t going away anytime soon.  Hector was recovering well, but there were some mornings that he looked half-dead.

He rubbed his eyes, and started to get dressed for the day and expected nothing more than the usual mundane routine that came with life, but instead later that morning when stepping inside the lift at the ministry, a single voice changed his whole schedule. 

“Hold the door!”

A blur of red and magenta ran inside the small lift and slammed on the button that closed the doors. Startled, Hector pushed himself to the wall to avoid getting hit by her long plait. 

The lift groaned and they started to go up.

“What do people do after they break up with a tosser of a boyfriend?” Rory Weasley’s face was almost as vivid as her hair. Her magenta robes were in disarray and her blue eyes were very bright.

“What?” Hector said, but the Auror quickly took over the conversation.

“I mean my sisters and friends are going to be so happy that I finally kicked him out. He was such a prat and I barely got to see any of my friends when we’re together. Do you know how annoying that is?”

Hector wouldn’t know. He had only two girlfriends: One was an international Quidditch star that became more of a friend when they wrote letters to each other after the Yule Ball; and the other was Teresa Boot and had ended very clinically just over a year ago. They had both came into the agreement that they were too similar for each other to stay as a couple, and now was living alone with just his cat and few friends for company.

He conveyed his uncertainty as a shrug.

“Good,” said Rory. “I hope you never have to put up with someone like _Logan Brown.”_ She sagged against the wall of the lift. “He just realized that I moved everything to a friend’s.”

“That’s nice,” Hector said. He kept his eyes firmly on the numbers that were showing that they were still moving slowly. He pinched his thigh to keep himself form showing how happy he exactly was about the news. It felt like being in Sixth Year all over again with that ridiculous crush.  At least there were more pressing matters to distract him back then, like the growing fear of You-Know-Who and everyone’s question of where the famous Girl-Who-Lived was.

“And I hope it lasts.”

“Then do what people do after a breakup.” Hector thought back the ridiculous programs that he enjoyed on the telly and radio. For reasons unknown to even him, it was hard to look away from the tangled relationships on the soaps that he and his mum would even talk about over the phone. He suspected any advice taken from them would end badly.

It maybe said too much about his free time.

“Like go back to the sod and repeat the cycle?” Rory made a face and shuddered. Her volatile relationship with Brown was known throughout their later years in Hogwarts. After spectacularly messy and loud breakups, they would be back together again.

“Anything but that!” Hector grimaced at the memories. “You have friends, right? Go do something with them, something that Brown hates.”

“I could spend an entire evening doing nothing,” said Rory. “What do you think?”

“Personally, I think I have too many free evenings.” The lift opened and they walked out together, before Hector realized he was actually needed on the floor above. “Oh, no.” Dismayed, he watched the lift’s doors closed. This was what he got for choosing to have a friendly conversation. 

“You’re must be having a fantastic morning,” Rory said as she watched his face crumbled. “What do you have in store for today?” 

“Being late for Director Bones’ meeting,” he sighed and checked her itinerary. No additional information was there except for the time and meeting place. How wonderfully vague. “I hope it’s nothing too important.”

* * *

"Halley!" Sirius jumped in his chair and his book almost flew into the fireplace. His hand went for his wand out of reflex. The second door to his bedroom was flung open and his goddaughter was on the floor.

"Oh. Hello," she squeaked. She blinked owlishly at him.

"Who taught you how to pick locks?" he asked, feeling a new wave of parental concern. A part of him, the Marauder part, was proud that she was picking up a skill like that so early. The more serious part of him feared for the future invasions of privacy. There was a phase that he and James had gone through one summer at the Potters’ house when they would try to challenge themselves by picking the doors that led to Mr Potter’s office.

It hadn’t end well. There was ink and dust everywhere once the jinx had gone off in their faces.

"Um," Halley said. She fiddled with the bobby pin that was in her hands. "Someone."

"Is the person a girl with red hair and freckles?" Sirius asked slowly.

"Idon'twanthertogetintrouble," Halley hurriedly said as one word. She took a deep breath. "She said that I'm really good at it already, and if I practice more…" She gulped and looked down at her shoes.

Sirius crouched down so that he was at eye level with her. "Do you want me to help? You know, your dad taught me how to pick locks, too."

"Really?" The worry was washed away from her thin face.

"Sure thing, kiddo. You're going to have to get real good before you visit her."

The smile she was wearing made him smile, too. “When do I get to see her again?”

* * *

 Halley wasn't going to die in Cardiff of all places. Not in the middle of no where in a reportedly haunted forest, she already did that once!

 She kept her hands up and glared at the wizard. "Are you sure that you know what you're doing?" she asked, keeping the annoyance in her voice thin.

"'Course I know!" The neo-Death Eater's wand trembled, but his larger companion had more composure.

"Potter, we meet at last." He kicked at her wand. "Seville, take it."

"We've met, you halfwit." Of course, insulting those that had a trained wand on her was a bad idea; but she was tired from the constant tracking and how it resulted into this. "Don't touch," she snapped at Seville. 

He stopped halfway.

“Seville, don’t listen to her,” Mulciber said. “Remember? We have her.”

Halley bit her tongue. This was her fault entirely. She was sent out to Wales to find the ringleaders of another Death Eater movement that had names she wanted, and that had meant days camping in dangerous spots and little sleep. Unfortunately, Halley had to pick a time to fall asleep in a tree of all places. She wasn't sure what the time was, and nothing had been happening.

And here she was now: Tired from the last few days, sore from falling out of a tree, unarmed and with two wizards arguing about her fate _. ICW’s best and brightest,_ she bitterly thought. _I ought to get that changed_. 

“I say we bring her back,” Seville said. He still hadn’t pocketed her wand. “Imagine—“

 “It could be a trap,” Mulciber argued. He sent a dark look Halley’s way. “Now I think we should leave a nice message…” He raised his wand. 

“Or,” she said. “I can do this.” 

Having enough of her week, Halley punched him in the face.

It felt fantastic. 

Mulciber howled in pain and clutched at his broken nose. Halley dove to the ground and picked up her wand, sending Mulciber to his knees as she jabbed her elbow in his stomach. 

_“Protego!”_ Her shield glittered in the air as Seville cast several Cutting Charms. Halley ending her shield and threw a Disarming Spell at him that caught him by the wand arm. He yelped as his shoulder suddenly became dislocated and he dropped his wand. It wasn’t enough. Halley easily got him with a Stunner and watched him drop the ground. Now she could give her full attention to the other wizard. 

“Drop it.” Halley pointed her wand at the back of Mulcibr’s head. He dropped his wand. There was blood on his face from her punch. “I need names.”

* * *

“She sounds like a lovely girl,” Molly said. She had been listening to her youngest children, mainly her daughter, about their visit to Grimauld’s Place. Arthur had told her everything already, even about their escapades around the house. Goodness, even she knew what collections that the old Black family had. It was no place to raise a child or a former convict to live!

She remembered when the news first came out about Sirius Black’s escape months ago. She had been terrified, knowing that their connections to the Order could bring her family harm. That name had brought nothing but fear and dark dreams on her part. Molly had almost became good friends with the man, until he broke her brother’s heart and had brought nothing but death to the Potter family.

But the poor girl! Molly’s heart had gone out to the Girl-Who-Lived after hearing how she lived with her muggle relatives. She had known Lily Potter only briefly from the Order, but it was so sad to hear how such a wonderful witch was related to such horrible people. Her own sister, no less!

That only broke her heart.

“Gideon, did you had a good time?” Molly asked, hoping to spur more words from him. It was quite without the rest of her girls being home, and her son was never this quiet. He was usually the one leading the dinner conversations. 

“She’s nice. We talked ‘bout flyin’ and stuff,” he said. He looked down and went back to playing with his food, unaware of the look that she and Arthur shared. “She’s pretty and she wants to know more about Quidditch, but she hasn’t gone flying yet. Rory promised that she’ll teach her, and I really want to help, too!" 

Molly caught the starry-eyed look on her son’s face, and she recognized it well. Arthur was smiling behind his napkin. “I take it that you enjoyed your time with her?”

“Yeah.” Gid’s face split into a wide grin. “I like her.”

Rory caught on and she coughed while drinking her milk, spewing some on the table. “You can’t! She’s my friend, you can’t like her like that! I thought you wanted to marry the baker's daughter?" 

“She doesn’t have green eyes,” her brother sighed dreamily. The expression on his face was usually reserved whenever he listened to the Harpies playing on the wireless. “Halley has pretty eyes. They’re really green…” 

Rory stared at him, dumbfounded. She turned to her parents. “Mu- _um!”_

“Your brother is allowed to fancy whomever he wants,” Arthur said. “In fact, Sirius asked if you would want Halley to come over—“ 

“Here?” Gid jumped, more startled than heartsick. He pushed his chair away from the table and went to the stairs. Then came the sound of his door being slammed close.

Rory stared at the empty spot. “Is he going to be this terrified every time she comes over?”

“He’ll grow out of it eventually,” said Molly. She patted Arthur’s knee. He was so looking forward to the idea of a muggle being brought into the family.

* * *

Halley limped back to the base and was greeted by a reedy wizard wearing blue robes as soon as she entered the facility. He appeared to have been waiting for her for a while. There was a half-empty mug of coffee and an opened magazine on the bench that he was sitting on earlier.

He had something to give her, and she wasn’t interested. It was a long week.

“Potter, you’re being transferred as of immediately.” He handed her a folder

“What?” Halley opened it and was greeted by pieces of the bureaucracy that she worked for. There was her file, of course, a copy of her latest field report, and a sheet of paper saying that her services were needed elsewhere with signatures from certain members of the ICW and…

“Congratulations,” he said. His badge read Penberry “Today you’re going back to London.”

“But the group here—“

“You’ve detained one of their ringleaders and—“

“But Bellatrix LeStrange is still out there!” Halley clenched the folder in her hand. The image of the cackling witch stayed in the back of her mind and she felt conscious of her older scars. One day Halley would get her revenge, but it wasn’t looking soon. “Isn’t that the reason why you’ve wanted me here?” She glared at the wizard.

Penberry returned her glare. “What I’ve been trying to tell you is that LeStrange is there. She was spotted yesterday and now you have a meeting to attend.”

“What?” Halley said, but he was walking away. “What do you mean that I have a meeting?”

* * *

"Hi," Halley waved.

Gid gave a startled squeak and slammed the door to his room.

“Did I do something wrong?” Halley lowered her hand and stared at the closed door. “I thought we were getting along well last time…” Flushed, she remembered the times back at primary school when Daisy would turn potential friends away from her.

“Mum says that he’ll be fine.” Rory’s lips twitched and she looked over her shoulders before back to Halley. “He wouldn’t shut up about you.” 

“Oh?” Halley wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Why’s that?”

“He likes you.” Rory rolled her eyes and tugged on Halley’s arm. “Come on! I want to show you my room.” 

“He what?”

“Come on! I want to show you my room!” Rory hurried up another flight of stairs and Halley could hear a door being open. She stayed a moment longer in front of Gid’s door and ran up the stairs to see her friend’s room. 

It was no where near as large as Halley’s, but it had twice the amount of clutter. The orange walls were plastered with moving posters. A fish tank on a windowsill was filled with murky water, and Halley thought she saw something moving inside. The rug, while old, was still yellow, and had bits and ends of things like cards and marbled littering it. There was a small bookshelf against another wall that had books like _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , _Flying With the Canons,_ and _Martin Miggs Saves the Day._

Rory stood in the middle of her room, babbling words to explain certain things. “Walls are orange ‘cause Mum let me pick a color last year. They were pink and looked like this yucky potion. I had a rat, too, Scabbers, but he went missing last year and now I have fish but they do nothing, too. I tried cleaning up but the twins were bothering me and they wouldn’t leave, and I know this isn’t like yours—“

“I like it,” Halley assured her.

With grins on their faces, the two girls went to go perfect their skills with picking locks.

* * *

 

Halley was drained.

She was physically recovering from her fall, but emotionally she was just done. She was rarely in England since Voldemort’s demise. She couldn’t go back for some reason. There were too many things left unsaid, too much that she felt cowardly to face, and here she was back and facing several of her old ghosts.

The most pain-staking part of her due was seeing Rory in passing at the Auror Office. 

After her kidnapping at the Yule Ball, the letters between her and the Weasleys became fewer until for security reasons they had to stop altogether. Halley had the image of her two friends frozen in their adolescence, until now. She also hasn’t even recognized her old friend until she caught her name in passing, 

Rory had gotten taller and walked with the confidence like the Aurors did. Halley had seen her, laughing and talking with her coworkers. It almost felt like a Cutting Curse was slowly making its way through her stomach.

_Sorry that I couldn’t contact you anymore,_ she had wanted to say. _But after Voldemort coming back and the spies we had, the ICW was pretty persistent after I broke out the first time._

Halley was tired. She was tired of the staring and whispering that happened at the Ministry. She was tired being Halley Potter.

“Are you okay?” a man asked. He bent his head so that he was at eye-level with her. “Uh, Miss?”

Halley bit down on her fist, trying any coping mechanism to not make herself bawl her eyes out in public. Nothing was going right today, and spilling coffee on some random stranger was the last straw. She shook her head.

“Do you want me to do something?” he said.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled around her fingers. She stepped backward and felt the crunch of her Styrofoam cup under her foot. “Bloody hell.”

And that was how she found herself sitting in a small café near King’s Cross with a total stranger. He had seen how tired and hungry she looked, and offered to buy her something from across the street. Too tired to argue, she’d agreed.

He was a tall man with vibrant red hair and steady dark eyes. There was something boyish about the countless amount of freckles and the trace of roundness in his face. His green shirt was stained with her coffee.

Halley sat down in the chair and nodded when he asked if she wanted hot chocolate. Then she buried her head in her hands and tried not to think about her day that much. After dropping everything at her flat at some unknown hour in the morning, she had to stop by the ICW base in London and was later escorted to the Ministry of Magic. There she was introduced to the taskforce that she was going to be working with for the time being.

This was so like the ICW. Without warning they would send her out somewhere in the world with leads and people to follow. She was only lucky this time that there wasn’t a time change between here and Wales. But _England_ , she hadn’t been back since the unauthorized rescue at the Chamber of Secrets. Even her final showdown with Voldemort had happened at Albania and not at Hogwarts much to the shock of what everyone had been expecting at that time.

“Sorry that it took so long,” he said. His large hands cradled his own mug.

‘I’m sorry, too,” she mumbled and took tentative sips of her coco. She would have to pay him back somehow. “I ruined your shirt, didn’t I? Can I do something for that?”

“Oh, this?” He looked down at what he was wearing. The brown stain ruined whatever the yellow image was. “Yeah, don’t worry. I got plenty more like this at home.”

“But I feel bad—“

“You probably did my mum a favor. She’s been finding a need to go through my stuff and get rid of these shirts. I keep saying that I have to keep these shirts because of my job, but she doesn’t believe me.” 

“And what do you do? Does it bring you to King’s Cross a lot?” Halley asked.

“Uh.” The tips of his ears turned red and he looked around nervously, as if he was about to share a secret. “I do radio stuff. Weird hours, no one’s heard of us, trust me. We’re small and did I mention the weird hours? I was only there to meet up with a friend. You?”

“Bureaucracy stuff. ” Her official cover story when interacting with Muggles was that she had a menial job as a temp in some vague department at the Ministry. There was no need to glamourize that lie with the truth of being the wizaridng equivalent of a spy. She had found out that the more normal and boring her job sounded, then the less people were to pry.

“That certainly has my attention.” He steepled his fingers under his chin and looked at her. “It sounds like _fun_.” The sarcasm brought a smile to her face.

“It really isn’t,” Halley said. “Most of what I do is paperwork. I fully expect to get Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in a few years.” She flexed her right hand, feeling the stiffness from the fight she had earlier that day. It wasn’t entirely a lie, too. When Halley wasn’t chasing down former Death Eaters, she was in an office and filling out reports. There was a lot of paperwork that came with international relations.

“Sorry!” Their knees knocked together and she watched his face gain the color of the setting sun. “So, long day, yeah?”

“I was transferred to a new office. It was all very sudden and my first day was today, and I don’t know my way around here that well except that I know King’s Cross is on my way to my flat.”

“You’ll get the hang of it.” His smile was warm. “Don’t mind me asking, but where are you from? I can’t get a good read on your accent.”

Halley pushed her empty mug away. “My uncle’s job meant that we had to move around a lot when I was a kid. You?”

“Just here and Scotland,” he sighed, adopting a more wistful tone. “The traveling must be nice. I’ve wanted to see more out there.” 

“You’ll be amazed how similar things are. I’m Holly, by the way,” she said the lie without any hesitation. She also never gave her real name to people that didn’t know her. The anonymity of passing as an ordinary witch was always too tempting for her to let go. Halley took his hand. His grip was strong and familiar. “Holly Jameson.”

“Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Gideon, but everyone calls me Gid.” 

It took more effort than she thought to keep her jaw from dropping.

The man sitting across from her couldn’t be him—but it was what? Over six years since she had last seen him? Her last impression of Gid was of him gaining conscious in the Chamber of Secrets. Back then he was all skinny arms and legs, and also near death. Now here he was looking, fit and very much alive. There were still parts of the boy that she once knew, but they were hard to find. His brown eyes most of all were very different, darker and more determined. 

And he didn’t know who she was. Even with the half-lies, he gave no inclination that he knew her. Gid did thought she was some muggle having a rotten first day.

Halley caught her reflection in the napkin container. As warped as it was, the spells and charms that were keeping her unrecognizable were still working. Her skin was lighter than her actual color, her hair had highlights, her eyes were hazel now, but all of her scars were hidden from view. She looked nothing like her actual self.

Halley felt her smile falter. “It’s nice to meet you, Gid.” 


End file.
